Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts
Showing posts with label funny. Show all posts

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Double Dose of Funnies and a Contest Winner, Too

Happy Hump Day. 

Back to a five day week this week for many of you so here's a double helping of funnies to get you over the mid-week hump and on the downhill slide to the weekend.

But first...

the winner of last Wednesday's Kaption Kontest

(drum roll please)

it's.....Karin!

Karin's not a blogger so no link back but I will be e-mailing her to arrange for her prize. 

A big thanks to everyone who played.  I love reading the great captions you all come up with.

Now, for today...

I've got some fun pictures for you and in between are classified ads,
which were actually placed in newspapers in the U.K.

I love our friends across the pond.

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FREE YORKSHIRE TERRIER.

8 years old, Hateful little bastard. Bites!

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Wouldn't we all love to have a friendship like this?

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FREE PUPPIES

1/2 Cocker Spaniel, 1/2 sneaky neighbor's dog.


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Oops.

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COWS, CALVES: NEVER BRED.

Also 1 gay bull for sale.

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Such a face!


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JOINING NUDIST COLONY!

Must sell washer and dryer £100.


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WEDDING DRESS FOR SALE

Worn once, by mistake.

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Don't panic.  I didn't forget your "aw".

It's a good one.






Okay.  That should do it.  Did you get a few chuckles, snickers, or maybe a good LOL?  I hope so.


Let's wrap up with a few bloopers.


Medical Chart Bloopers: 

The patient refused autopsy.

On the second day the knee was better and on the third day it disappeared.

She is numb from her toes down.  



Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Happy Hump Day - and We Have a Winner

Happy Hump Day.

First, let me congratulate the winner of last week's Caption Contest, Sarah Allen.  Sarah, I'll be contacting you by e-mail so you can chose your prize.  Thanks to everyone for playing.  You always come up with some great captions.

Something a little different today.  The following series of pictures show debating church signs.  Yes, they are obviously fake and I mean no disrespect to anyone's faith or church affiliation - but this made me laugh out loud so I'm sharing it with you.












For my own part, I offer this quote from Will Rogers:  "If there are no dogs in Heaven, then when I die I want to go where they went."

And since I can't ask you to get through Hump Day without at least one "aw", I offer this little face...



You said it.  I know you did.

Groaner of the Day:  (I've got a theme going today)  There was a young boy who lived with his family on a farm in the countryside. One building on the farm was a large ice-house, where produce was stored until market day.

One day, the boy was playing near the ice-house, and happened to notice that a family of wrens (small birds) had got themselves trapped in the building. The boy opened the doors, and tried to coax them out, but oddly, they didn't seem to want to come.

The boy was very worried about the little birds because it was so cold in the ice-house, and checked on them every day.  To be certain they'd be okay, he included them in his nightly prayers...

"...and God bless all the little chilled wrens."

Monday, November 7, 2011

I'm an Idiot!! (The Tale of the Garage Door Remote)

A couple months ago I started having trouble with the remote control on my garage door opener.  Sometimes I'd hit the button and the door would immediately go up (or down, as the case may be), but sometimes I'd have to play this little game.  Shake it. Hit the button. Groan. Smack it against my hand. Hit the button. Mutter. Rap it on the steering wheel.  Hit the button. Curse. Repeat cycle while debating at what point I was going to give up, leave the car in the driveway, and enter the house via the front door.

I mentioned this problem to my beloved spouse who decided the remote needed a new battery.  We have a spare remote but no battery for it.  Since the remotes use a very funky little battery, he took the spare to the store to get one installed.  But when he brought it home, the spare remote wouldn't talk to the door opener.

"I know," he told me.  "After putting in a new battery, the remote has to be programmed to the same frequency as the opener.  You need to pull out the manual to see how to do that."

I went to the file drawer where we keep the forty two thousand manuals for all of the forty two thousand electronic devices we have ever owned and went through them, one by one.  I found the manual for the boom box we bought our now 39 year old son when he was 16.  I found the manuals for for three different microwave ovens (we only own one).  I even found the manual for the eight-track player we had in our old car (how many of you even know what an eight track is?).  I did not find a manual for the garage door opener.

The search for the missing manual fell by the wayside while the shake, hit, smack, and curse dance became more and more frequent.  Our electric garage door opener, unfortunately, does not have an external entry key pad.  It works one of two ways - by the remote or by the button mounted next to the internal door leading into the kitchen.  So if you're outside, coming in, you're pretty much limited to entering the house via the front door, going through the kitchen and hitting the wall button on your way through the garage to bring in the car.  If you're leaving and need to close the garage door behind you, you can do the same thing in reverse or, if you're very quick and very agile, you might be able to hit the button, race to the front of the garage and leap over the safety sensors before the door comes down on your head.  I am neither very quick nor very agile.

Thus has gone the last couple weeks.  The remote in my car had given up the ghost.  The remote with the new battery was waiting to be programmed.  The manual was still missing.  And I was going in and out by racing through the house to open and close the garage door.

Now you may be asking yourself why I didn't just leave the car outside.  The answer is I drive a ten year old Saab convertable that has yet to see her first scratch or ding.  She is my baby and I am very protective of her.  You might also ask why I didn't simply move the new funky little battery from one remote to the other.  The answer to this is because I assumed that since my beloved spouse took the remote to the store with him to get the new battery, it must require some sort of special installation (see title of post).  

Jump to this weekend.  While looking for something else entirely I found the missing manual (please don't ask where).  Instructions for programming a new remote involved opening the big box thing hooked to the big track thing on the ceiling in the garage.  I moved my car outside - after opening the door using the button on the wall - got on a step ladder and managed to open the box.  Aha! There was the little button that would send the signal to the new remote so they could start playing together.  I followed the instructions step by step.  Press the signal button in the box.  Red light begins flashing.  Check.  Press button on remote.  Red light should stay lit but stop flashing.  Nope.  Still blinking.  Cancel procedure and try again.  Several times.  Spare remote will not answer signal from big box.

Okay, at this point I'm getting pretty frustrated.  Back in the kitchen, I start examining the stubborn remote and end up opening the battery door.  Yes, it's a funky little battery but there is nothing, if you'll excuse the expression, remotely difficult about the installation.  A simple 'slip in between two contact points'.  I go outside, retrieve the dead remote from the car, and open the battery compartment door.  One of the contact points is bent, not touching the base of the battery.  I give it a little push, gently bending it back in place.  Then I aim it toward the garage and hit the button.

And the garage door goes up.   

 Arrrrrrrrgh!

Epilog - The first remote is working fine.  Both the funky batteries are good so I've stashed one away as a spare.  The extra remote is still useless.  And I'm an idiot.


Groaner of the Day: A thief broke into the local police station and stole all the toilets and urinals, leaving no clues. A spokesperson was quoted as saying, "We have absolutely nothing to go on."

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Another Happy Hump Day

Here it is again - another Hump Day.  And here's a little something to boost you over.  Got some chuckles and some aw's and maybe even an eke.

Enjoy.



Odd.  It's usually the ladies room that has the long line.




You said aw.  I know you did.




Remember the cat from last week?  This guy had to come off the same assembly line.




Last week we met the "Significant Otter", this week - the significant result.



I'm not sure what to say about this face.


Now before you scroll down - disclaimer time. 

This is my son and my grandson. 

I am NOT responsibile for their appearance.

I am not a violent person.

But sometimes...you know how aggravating boys can be.

I may have gotten out of hand.

Just a little.






(Okay, they were participating in the local "Zombie Walk" for charity.)


Anything tickle your funny bone or tug a heartstring?


Groaner of the Day: Two brooms were hanging in the closet and after a while they got to know each other so well, they decided to get married.

One broom was, of course, the bride broom, the other the groom broom.

The bride broom looked very beautiful in her white dress.

The groom broom was handsome and suave in his tuxedo.

The wedding was lovely.

After the wedding, at the wedding dinner, the bride-broom leaned over and said to the groom-broom, "I think I am going to have a little broom."

"Impossible!" said the groom broom. "We haven't even swept together!"

Friday, April 22, 2011

Hairball - A True Story

Something different for a Friday funny.  A true story...

My buddy Donna and I have always been each other’s pet sitters. I have dogs, she has cats. Usually, I get the better of the deal—cats are pretty easy. But last summer Donna informed me she was planning on boarding her cats.

“Why?”

“Well, you know Hazel is diabetic now,” Donna reminded me. “She has to have insulin shots twice a day. I can’t let you do that.”

Hmmm. Part of me wholeheartedly agreed. I wasn’t interested in wrestling with an angry cat twice a day for two weeks, fighting to stick her with a needle. But still, our own vacation was coming up the following month. I’d feel pretty scummy asking Donna to watch my dogs—who were a lot more trouble—if I hadn’t done the same for her cats.

“How hard is it? Does she fight getting the shots?” Stupid question. I fight getting shots.

“No. Not really. If I put out her food first, I can usually slip her the shot while she’s eating and she doesn’t seem to notice.”

Ah. A sneak attack. I’m pretty good at those.

So we agreed to give it a couple dry runs and, if they went well, the cats would stay home and I’d just add giving insulin shots to the twice a day feeding routine.

Actually, it was a piece of cake. For the first four days, I got the pre-loaded syringe out of the fridge, set out the little plate of canned cat food, and while Hazel was busy chowing down, I pulled up the scruff of her neck, eased in the needle, and pushed the plunger home. As promised, she never even noticed.

It was the morning of day five, usual routine. Food was down. Cats were eating. I had a bit of Hazel’s scruff between my finger and thumb, pushing the plunger home, when I realized something. The needle had passed through Hazel and was embedded in my thumb, where I was happily injecting myself with feline insulin. I pulled the needle out of both Hazel and myself and stood there.

Now what?

What do I do about Hazel? Did she get any of that insulin before the needle moved on from her to me? If I give her a second dose will it be too much? If I don’t, will she go into some kind of diabetic shock? Am I going to suddenly start meowing? And why does Donna always vacation up at that stupid lake where there are no phones and no cell coverage?

I made a couple emergency phone calls and—after some totally unnecessary laughter—was advised to skip the rest of Hazel’s morning shot and give her the usual dose in the evening. I also received two comments about my drinking so early in the morning and the information that I can’t get high off feline insulin so I’d have to try some other way.

So, all in all, no harm done. Hazel survived and I was able to dump my dog-watching duties on Donna the following month with a clear conscience.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I feel a hairball coming on.


Have a wonderful Easter.

I'm currently enjoying: Just finished Black Water Rising by Attica Locke

Groaner of the day: (After that story of mine, I'll make this a short one.)  I'm reading a book about anti-gravity. It's impossible to put down.